


Three Little Words

by realityisoverrated



Series: Infinite Love [207]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Polyamory, Polyfidelity, Smoaking billionaires, Toliver, flommy, olicity - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 07:50:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21388660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realityisoverrated/pseuds/realityisoverrated
Summary: Oliver Queen loves easily and fully. When he loves someone, those three little words come easily. For Tommy, love has always been something used against him. To Tommy, those three little words are dangerous.
Relationships: Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak, Tommy Merlyn/Felicity Smoak, Tommy Merlyn/Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn/Oliver Queen/Felicity Smoak
Series: Infinite Love [207]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/381805
Comments: 40
Kudos: 136





	Three Little Words

**Author's Note:**

> This story depicts a polyamorous relationship between one woman and two men. If this is not something you are interested in, please stop and go no further.
> 
> This installment is 29/207. The chronological list for the series, with hyperlinks, can be found at  
http://archiveofourown.org/works/11051019
> 
> Welcome to any new readers. The more the merrier.

Artwork by Lademonessa

The feel of Tommy’s hands beneath his Henley and splayed against his bare skin made Oliver feel heady with lust. Being able to kiss and touch Tommy whenever he wanted was intoxicating and had quickly become addictive. They were sprawled out on Tommy’s couch, making out like they did when they were teenagers, except, now they were both sober and touched each other wherever they wanted. A soft moan escaped Tommy’s lips when Oliver sucked on his earlobe. In response, Oliver ground his jean covered erection against Tommy’s.

“Ollie,” Tommy sighed and his fingers raked down his boyfriend’s back.

Oliver lifted his head and brushed his lips against Tommy’s. He cradled the brunette’s body against his and looked into his eyes, “I love you.”

Tommy smiled and chased Oliver’s lips. He ran his barefoot up the back of the vigilante’s toned legs and rocked against him.

Oliver pulled back from Tommy’s lips. He was panting with desire and his heart was racing but he needed to hear something before they made their way to Tommy’s bedroom. He stroked Tommy’s freshly shaved cheek. “I love you.”

Tommy again smiled and lifted his head to kiss Oliver.

The ardor he’d been consumed by instantly cooled. Oliver lifted himself off Tommy and sat back on his knees. He felt bereft without Tommy’s warm hands on him.

A crease formed between Tommy’s eyes as he lifted himself onto his elbows. “What’s wrong?”

“Why don’t you ever say it?” Oliver sounded more wounded than he intended.

“Say what?” Tommy pushed up until he was sitting. His hands landed on Oliver’s waist and he leaned forward to kiss his neck.

Oliver placed his hand flat against Tommy’s chest. Tommy looked at him questioningly, so he asked again, “Why don’t you ever say it?”

It became clear the moment Tommy realized what Oliver was asking. His face fell and he tried to get off the sofa, but Oliver was kneeling between his legs which made a quick escape difficult. He attempted to scoot back, but Oliver fisted his hand in Tommy’s shirt.

“I love you,” Oliver said again.

“Ollie,” Tommy’s eyes welled with tears and he looked away.

“I love you,” Oliver pressed Tommy’s hand over his heart.

“Ollie,” Tommy tried to pull away again.

Oliver’s hand tightened around Tommy’s and he pushed it harder against his chest. He needed Tommy to hear the truth of his words. “I love you.”

“Please,” Tommy begged.

Oliver dropped Tommy’s hand and rose from the sofa. He ran his fingers through his hair as he began to pace. “Why can’t you say it? I know you love me,” Oliver challenged.

“Oliver,” Tommy said rising from the sofa. His hands were shaking and he shoved them into his pockets.

“Say the words, Tommy,” Oliver pleaded.

Tears spilled down Tommy’s face as he rocked side to side.

Realization dawned on Oliver like being plunged into an ice bath. “You don’t trust me,” he accused.

“I trust you,” Tommy said earnestly.

Oliver took a step closer to Tommy. “Tell me you love me,” he demanded. When Tommy stood frozen in place he suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was no longer a man in control of his own destiny but a frightened teenager unsure of how he’d ever break free from his parents’ crushing expectations staring at another teenager more terrified than Oliver could ever understand. He looked around for where he’d left his shoes as he grabbed his jacket from the chair.

Oliver’s sudden movement broke Tommy free from his own paralysis. “Wait,” Tommy grabbed Oliver’s arm. “Where are you going?”

“Some things never change,” Oliver said as he desperately tried to hold onto his composure. He hadn’t come to fight. He wasn’t prepared to have this fight. They would never survive it. He had to get out before they said things they could never take back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tommy put himself between Oliver and the front door.

The words tumbling from Oliver’s mouth were as unwelcomed as the tears falling from his eyes. “Why is it so hard to tell me that you love me? Unless, you don’t.”

Tommy’s eyes went wide and he took a step back. “How can you say that to me?”

“I love you,” Oliver tried again.

Tommy’s eyes lost their shine and became vacant. He felt sick as he watched Tommy shut down in self-preservation. Tommy’s chin dropped and his voice became small, “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“I don’t know,” Oliver said. He hated how defeated Tommy looked but he couldn’t stay. He needed to get some air and to think. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay,” Tommy said without looking up. He trailed behind Oliver to the front door. “Good night.”

“Night,” Oliver said. Tommy’s front door closed behind him. He turned to look, unsure of what had put the barrier between them. He knew Tommy loved him. He didn’t understand how the bravest man he knew couldn’t bring himself to say three little words.

The alley door of the foundry opened, and Oliver lowered his sledgehammer. It was late and he wasn’t expecting any member of his team back until the following night. Felicity stepped into the light, her lips pressed together tightly as she glared at him.

“What are you doing back here?” Oliver asked, returning the hammer to its spot. “Did you get an alert?”

“Why does Tommy think you broke up with him?” Felicity asked, pointing towards the door. “He’s a mess right now. He said you had a fight and then you walked out.”

Oliver dropped his head, “Felicity.”

“We were supposed to have dinner together. You decided to pick a fight while you waited for me to come with the takeout?”

“Hey, I didn’t pick a fight – we didn’t fight – not really.” Oliver grabbed his t-shirt and pulled it on. As much as he hadn’t wanted to fight with Tommy, he wanted to fight with Felicity even less. He wasn’t prepared to tell her what he and Tommy were fighting about. She would never understand the number of invisible wounds he and Tommy had inflicted upon each other. “It’s complicated.”

She stepped into his space and cutoff his ability to move around her. “Uncomplicate it for me,” Felicity said harshly. “Did you break up with him?”

“No, of course not,” Oliver said. “I got mad. I came here, I cooled off. It’s fine.”

“Oliver, you might be fine, but he’s a mess.” Felicity’s voice softened, “What happened?”

“I told him I love him - he wouldn’t say it back.” Oliver waited for Felicity to tell him he was being ridiculous and selfish.

“I’m sorry, that must’ve hurt. You know that he loves you though, right? I mean, he’s crazy, madly, in love with you,” Felicity said, her hands rubbing his arms soothingly.

“I know he loves me. I don’t understand why he can’t say it back,” Oliver said, feeling his anger rising again.

Felicity’s head tilted to the side like she did whenever she was trying to solve a troublesome computer problem. “Did you ask him?”

“Yes, but he wouldn’t answer me – he just stared at me,” Oliver said with frustration.

“Maybe he doesn’t have the words to explain – maybe he just needs more time and for you to be more patient. It’s scary to tell someone you love them.”

“But I’m me - ,” Oliver’s voice cracked. “How can he be scared to tell me?”

“Maybe you should ask him when you go to apologize,” Felicity suggested with a small smile.

“You want me to apologize for telling him that I love him?” Oliver asked with disbelief.

“No, you big dope. I want you to apologize for not hearing him say I love you in the all the ways he tells you he does. He might have trouble speaking the words, but he loves you with everything he is.” Felicity pressed her hand against his chest. “Listen with your heart instead of your ears.”

Oliver pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes as they threatened to betray him for a second time that night. “I know that he loves me – I do. It just - it hurts, okay. I’ve loved him for more than half my life and I would like to hear him say it.”

“Go talk to him. He needs you and I think you need him.” Felicity threaded her fingers through Oliver’s. “Malcolm makes him doubt himself. Trust me, when your own father rejects you, it’s hard to put your heart out there for someone else – even for someone you’ve loved half your life – especially the person you’ve loved half your life. He’ll find the words. Be patient until he does.”

Tommy was laying on his side staring out the window when Oliver entered his bedroom. He took off his leather jacket and laid it on the foot of the bed. Tommy didn’t move or acknowledge Oliver’s presence. Oliver could tell he was awake by his breathing. “Buddy - ”

“Are you hungry?” Tommy asked, his voice scratchy. “Felicity brought sushi, it’s in the fridge.”

“Did you eat?” Oliver asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, his hand resting on Tommy’s calf.

“Wasn’t hungry,” Tommy said, his eyes still trained on the lights outside his bedroom window.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have walked out before, not when I knew you were shutting down,” Oliver said, his own guilt clawing at his gut.

Tommy rolled onto his back and covered his face with his arms. “I’m used to it,” he said, his voice ice cold.

Anger flared in Oliver’s chest. He hated the way Tommy fought when he was protecting himself – it was how he learned to fight with Malcolm. Tommy got cold and detached which only made Oliver get hot and emotional. “Don’t,” he said tightly. “I know you’re angry with me, but – I’m not him.”

Tommy rolled away from Oliver, pulling his knees up to his chest.

Oliver laid down and spooned Tommy, wrapping his arms around Tommy’s chest. “I’m not your father. We can have a fight and still be okay. I’m not going to hit you or tell you you’re worthless. I will tell you that I love you, and if you can never tell me the words back, I will still know that you love me. It will be enough as long as I get to hold you in my arms.”

“I don’t want to be this way,” Tommy said quietly. “I don’t want to be the man he made.”

“Hey,” Oliver raised onto his elbow and tugged on Tommy’s shoulder. “Malcolm didn’t make you. You made you – despite his worst efforts. You’re nothing like him.”

Tommy’s eyes filled with tears. “I want - ”

Oliver’s chest ached at the bewilderment on Tommy’s face. “What do you want?”

“I want,” Tommy swallowed heavily, “to be the man you and Felicity believe I am. What if I can’t? What if you’re better off without me?”

“You are the man love.” Oliver crushed Tommy to his chest. “There isn’t a universe where I could ever be better off without you.”

“I’m sorry.” Tommy wrapped his arms around Oliver and wept against his chest.

“Don’t be sorry.” Oliver buried his face against Tommy’s soft curls. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Tommy’s fingers dug into Oliver’s back. “I’m trying. I’m trying not to be broken. Don’t give up on me – I’m trying.”

“I’ll never give up on you,” Oliver promised. “You’re not broken. Maybe dinged up a little, but not broken.”

“Do you think he’s watching me? Sometimes it feels like he’s right outside these windows waiting to take everything away from me.”

Oliver wished he could make Malcolm disappear from Tommy’s life forever. He knew as long as Malcolm breathed, he would find ways to pop in and out of Tommy’s life to inflict maximum chaos and emotional damage. “Malcolm doesn’t matter. He doesn’t have power over us – not anymore.”

Tommy’s fingers played with the collar of Oliver’s shirt. “He’s threatened to kill me for less than what we’re doing now. If anyone ever finds out about us -” His gaze returned back to the twinkling lights of the Starling skyline. He sat up suddenly, forcing Oliver to move back. “Are you hungry?” he asked brightly. “If we don’t want sushi, I have chicken in the fridge. I can make parmigiana or marsala?”

“Tommy?” Oliver asked with concern. It always set him on edge whenever Tommy yoyoed from despair to frantic energy. “I’m not hungry. We’re not done talking.”

Tommy’s shoulders deflated. He looked around the room frantically, as if looking for something to distract Oliver from their prior conversation.

Oliver sighed. “Do you have any pasta?”

Tommy smiled with relief. “Carbs, really? You never let me make carbs.” He held up his hands to prevent Oliver from speaking. “Don’t say another word. Chicken and pasta, it is.”

Oliver followed Tommy into the kitchen. He wasn’t happy pushing the events of the evening to the backburner, but if it was what Tommy needed, they’d save their conversation for another day. Felicity looked up from her tablet. Her eyes sought Oliver’s, looking for confirmation that all was well. He could only respond with a shrug.

“Good, you’ve got a bottle of red open.” Tommy kissed the top of her head. “How do you feel about chicken parmigiana with pasta?”

“Sounds yummy,” Felicity replied as she carefully studied Tommy.

“Ollie, can you get the pasta from the cabinet?” Tommy gestured to a cabinet as he removed two wine glasses from another.

“What kind?” Oliver asked, opening the narrow pantry.

“Dealer’s choice,” Tommy said, his head inside the refrigerator as he pulled out the ingredients for their dinner.

Oliver sorted through the small bags of novelty shaped pasta. Novelty pastas were something new that Tommy and Thea had begun to share in his absence.

“What are our options?” Felicity asked as she peered around his biceps. “Do we have any horses left?”

“I think these are penguins,” Oliver said, peering at the shapes inside a bag.

“You can’t have those, I got them for Thea,” Tommy said.

Felicity snorted, holding up a bag for Oliver to view. “I think these are penises.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “Why would anyone make penis shaped pasta?”

“Parties,” Tommy answered.

“What kind of party are we having that we need penis shaped pasta?” Oliver couldn’t imagine what occasion would call for penis pasta.

Tommy’s eyebrows danced across his forehead, “Whatever kind of party we want.”

“I’m not eating penises for dinner,” Oliver said, putting the bag of pasta back into the pantry.

Felicity and Tommy both snorted, trying to fight the laughter that was threatening to break free.

“Is that pasta in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?” Tommy asked, gasping through his laughter.

Oliver arched a brow. “Seriously? Are we twelve?” He blindly felt in the pantry and grabbed a random bag of pasta. “Here, we’ll eat -” He could feel his cheeks flaming red as he examined the shapes in the bag.

Felicity began to cackle with laughter. She took the bag from Oliver’s hand and tossed it to Tommy. “Looks like we’ll be eating breasts with our chicken breasts.”

Tommy caught the bag and winked at his boyfriend and girlfriend. “That’s the beauty of being bi – I’m just as happy putting my mouth around boobs as dicks.”

“Dicks?” Oliver asked, shaking his head. He held up one finger. “You better only be putting that mouth around one dick.”

“If you get that other bag out, we can have a contest to see who can put the most dicks into his or her mouth,” Tommy said through his laughter.

Felicity bent over at the waist as she wheezed through her laughter.

“I’m in love with two lunatics,” Oliver mumbled under his breath.

“Don’t look at me. Our sister bought the boob and penis pasta. She thought I’d be shocked by it,” Tommy said with wide-eyed innocence. “I don’t think she realized how close she is to the truth.” Tommy tossed the bag of penis shaped pasta at Oliver. “Care to put your money where your mouth is?”

Oliver placed the pasta on the counter, turned off the oven and returned the chicken to the fridge. Before Tommy had a chance to react, Oliver had put him over his shoulder. “I think your mouth is going to be otherwise occupied.”

Tommy’s hands smacked Oliver’s ass. “I’d much rather have the real thing.”

Oliver took a still laughing Felicity’s hand and led her into the bedroom.

His chest swelled with joy as Tommy and Felicity’s laughter filled Tommy’s bedroom. There were a lot of things that surprised Oliver about being in a relationship with Tommy and Felicity, but one of the most pleasant had been how much they laughed when they were in bed together. Who knew how sexy laughter could be? It wasn’t something he’d ever done before, and something he’d never expected to enjoy, but it was something he hoped he’d never do without again. He and Felicity still had a lot of work to do in helping Tommy break down the walls Malcolm had so effectively built around his son. Patience wasn’t always Oliver’s strong suit, but he would find the patience of Job if it meant he would one day here those three little words from Tommy.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Your kudos and comments are what keep me writing and are always appreciated.
> 
> Oliver and Tommy have been on my mind a lot lately. It feels like Stephen is teasing me with his twitter profile pic. This was an installment that has been languishing in my folder for years and I finally decided to finish it.
> 
> You can also come say hi to me on tumblr. I'm always happy to answer questions about this verse or anything else Arrow. http://realityisoverrated-fic.tumblr.com


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